I will update only this thread with each addition I make. If you notice any spelling errors of the likes please say and I will edit. If you have suggestions then post them on this thread, I'll read them all. Thanks for your time!
PooZy - PooZy
Ramm - Rammjet
Prism - Prism
Ymmot - Ymm0t22
Joman - JoMan112
Asilva - Asilva93
V - V4Vendetta
Black - Blackout
Anthony - ~Twisted
Akan - Azula
Webbz - Webbi2012
Dutany - Dutany
Clips - Eclipse
Jennifer - Jennifer
Squids - Legobot / LSD
Python - 1python64
Elm - Fanatical Elm
Cal - Excaliburn007
Yak - Yak404
Helion - Helion
Husk - Husk.
Page 1: Pilot / Part 1
Page 2: Part 2 / Part 3
Page 3: Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Page 4: Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10
Page 5: Part 11 / Part 12 / Epilogue
The sun crawled across the horizon, shrouded by wisps of steely clouds. It cast an eery pink glow across the sky, which was itself pierced by faint new stars. Suddenly blinds were drawn and Prism's mind returned to the dark stuffy room which she was standing in.
"Your duties, Examine him now." The grinding tone of Asilva's voice stirred Prism. She pulled a thermometer from the pursed mouth of a body lying on a stained bed. Squinting, she examined the dial. The thermometer was cracked at the bottom and contained no fluid, yet she made as if to note down the reading. She shook her head.
"Same as yesterday, same as every day since I can remember. Jiggmin might as well be dead, because he's not waking up again."
Asilva's mechanical body whirred internally. He brought himself up to his full height, which was in fact not excessively high.
"Need I remind you of your place? Jiggmin is Mayor, that means a lot in this town. If I have enough reason to believe you are holding anything, ANYTHING against him then I am fully entitled to exact justice on you." Asilva was a droid, a mechanical police man built to maintain peace in Jiggmin's village. His robotic body was intricate in design, layered with armored plates and veined with thick cables. His stature was menacing, his wide spread shoulders were linked to his solidly built chest. If not a cop he could easily have been a man-tank. Despite his heavy cladding the overall appearance was of a man that had been stripped of skin, metal muscles and sinews generously enveloped the being.
The most terrible thing of all was its head. The features were sharp and angular, molded into a permanent scowl. There were no visible eyes, rather two deep eye-holes. It looked almost organic, so delicately had the entire machine been created, yet it seemed far too fowl for any natural creature. A bright yellow smiley face was printed on the right chest plate, it was scratched and the paint has peeled almost to non-existence.
Prism hesitated a glance into the eye sockets, but faltered and instead took a step back.
"Yes I know my place.." she replied carefully. "I know it better than you do in any case."
Asilva's forearm struck Prism sharply on her temple.
"You people crack me up, you know that? I'm sure you'll find yourself more useful... elsewhere." And with that Asilva opened the door to the room and threw Prism into the streets. She was greeted by a small crowd who had eagerly been awaiting this moment. They remained silent, hardly daring to be the first to speak.
"How long until he's better?" Cried one.
Prism sighed with frustration. "He's not GETTING better, he's not getting worse, he's exactly the same as before and probably always will be."
A new mechanical being forced its way through the throng of people. It was leaner than Asilva, and would also have been taller were it not for a terrible injury. The shoulder armor down to the segmented metal spine were torn open, once melted metal had solidified over the wound to grant its bearer with a permanent hunch. The letter 'V' was printed cleanly across the left chest plate. "That doesn't sound very optimistic Prism, is there something you need to tell us about your loyalties?"
"Take that stick out of your behind, I am and will always be loyal to Jiggmin. Try and focus on catching the real traitors rather than wasting time on me for once." Prism angrily pushed her way through the crowd and disappeared into one of many nests of dilapidated houses.
There was muttering amongst the throng of people.
"If Jiggmin can't lead us then we need someone else, someone who can!"
"I've heard that Sparks has signed a contract with a new trading station, how can we win them back with a corpse for a Mayor?"
"That's nothing, there's talk of a new revolution. Talk to the Pickles if you don't believe me."
"Hey metal arse, how about some answers here!"
V turned back to face them.
"Silence" he said in a stern voice.
Prism peeked over her shoulder. As she walked between the narrow aisles between houses the sounds of the town became more distant. Breaking into a slight jog she hurried through ever increasingly squeezed alleyways, every so often peering around to make sure no eyes were turned. Finally she came to a dead end - and bending down she heaved a metal slat to the side. Hidden underneath it was a roughly cut stairway which wound into the darkness below. Prism followed it down, sliding the metal slat over her head as she did so. Now that she was inside her eyes readjusted to the dark conditions and she could see the steps were dully lit with a flickering orange light. A wooden sign hung overhead, it read "JVKlub".
"I think it would be best for me to make this clear right now" Said Poozy. "There is no Pickle-planned revolution, at least not to my knowing. I can't really speak for the other Pickles, half of them have gone into hiding anyway."
Ymmot lent forwards, "I still have access to the dungeon, it wouldn't be hard for me to find some more information."
Joman shook his head, "That's because the droids don't consider you a threat, as soon as they find you sneaking around in there they won't let you leave again. You need to keep their trust, lets save it for a more important occasion. None of us should act until the right time, or else we'd be wasting our chance."
"If I never use my position to my advantage then what's the point of me having it?" Ymmot noisily pushed his chair back and began to circle the table. "We already have all we need to deal with the droids, look at the people on board already! Poozy, a feared warlord on his home world."
Poozy lent back in his chair and smiled.
"Dutany, the town's reporter!"
Dutany looked up from his note pad for a moment and grinned.
"Clips, I'm sorry I don't really know what you do."
Clips frowned and began muttering under his breath.
"Black... the town's ... crazy guy."
Black threw a half eaten apple at Ymmot, which bounced off his nose.
"Agh, Well... we have Ramm, the town's leading engineer!"
Ramm waved a dismissive hand in Ymmot's direction.
"Oh yes I forgot, the town's leading jerk, yes that's right."
Ramm and Ymmot shared a glare before Poozy stepped in. "We also have Joman and Anthony, oh and Prism!"
Prism had appeared at the entrance to the den, a stairway cut into the side of the rock. She pushed her glasses further up her nose and smiled awkwardly before finding her own seat at the table. The den itself was large and lit by an open fire atop the round table she now sat at. Though the light was strong it was not enough to reach the far corners of the room which remained in shadow. The walls and floor were adorned with ornate rugs and chipped ornaments, giving the den a welcome and homely. Poozy continued talking.
"It's hard to get new people on board, we can never be sure of who we can trust, but we certainly have our fair share of the town's population. What we really need now is a clear direction."
Joman broke into speech. "The problem isn't the village, it's Sparks. That city is a drain on our economy although the droids would have people believe it is our only hope. When Anthony returns we will have the means to take it on."
Ymmot crossed his arms and huffed. "How can you believe that? Nobody could care less about Sparks, the real problems are the ones we have to deal with every day. The village has been at a stand still since they locked the welcoming gates, the droids blindly follow their flawed programming and arrest innocent people. There's even talk of a revolution, although I'm relieved that this time it isn't our doing."
Prism lightly cleared her throat and scanned the room before speaking, "Look, none of that can change until we have a new Mayor. The droids won't allow it while Jiggmin has a pulse. I really don't like to suggest this, but Jiggmin might as well be dead anyway..."
There were gasps from around the table, though fewer than Prism had expected. Dutany brushed his notepad to one side and lent onto the table.
"We can't even consider that. The droids guard him around the clock, when I worked for them all they ever talked about was Jiggmin and how his illness was progressing. It's all they think about, they won't allow him to be hurt."
"Hey Ymmot, the time?" Rammjet interrupted cooly. Ymmot shot his eyes at the clock and swore, then hurriedly scraped up some papers that lay on the table in front of him. The others watched as he stumbled up the shadowy stairs.
Ymmot opened the gate to the Dungeons of Despair. The hinged creaked violently and the droid V twisted round with alert.
"You're late, why is it nobody takes their job seriously anymore? Maybe we should find somebody who does." V fumbled with a key chain at his waist and bought forth a black and rusted key, more crudely shaped than the others. He held it to Ymmot's face. "Thirty minutes. Cell eight needs its weekly food and water. Oh, and clean cells one through five, one of the cells leaked."
V unlocked the small stocky gate of the dungeon and patted Ymmot through before locking it once again. The dungeon was dirty, the stone walls were plastered with an age of dried on dust and dead spiderlings. The air smelled stale as if it had been breathed and re breathed far too many times. The only light came from a high barred-up porthole window on the far side of the dungeon, Ymmot could just make out the feet of passers by. He strode to cell eight, taking the opportunity to oversee the 'leak' in cells one to five. It was blood.
Ymmot unlocked the door to cell eight and went inside. He filled a tattered bowl about a third of the way with water and threw a small hunk of bread to the ground. Ymmot briefly looked to the corner of the cell, a skeleton lay crumpled in a miserable heap. *Doesn't seem like you'll be needing it anyway* thought Ymmot.
"Forget the cleaning" called V, "We've just got a new prisoner you need to interrogate."
Ymmot sat in the white washed interrogation booth with the prisoner and V.
"I don't recognize him." Said Ymmot. "Where did you get this guy from?"
V frowned. "Speak only when addressed, unless you make a formal note and put it in the town's personnel messaging box. We found him by the Welcoming Gates with a gun, calling for somebody called 'Midir'. I have more important jobs than looking after you now, deal with this yourself." V hobbled out of the room.
Ymmot looked with awe at the stranger, who himself gazed bleakly at the floor. His attire was foreign and was the likes that had never been seen passing through the village before. It looked expensive, although it had been roughened up by wear and tear. Ymmot inhaled to speak before the stranger confidently cut over him.
"I was only here looking for a man called Midir, I have done your village no harm. Release me and I will be on my way."
Ymmot sucked his teeth, "That's not how it works around here, I'm not any kind of authority. The droids just put me here so that the prisoners think they aren't being ignored. I can't actually help you."
"You don't sound fond of this place" replied the prisoner, "Help me escape and i'll guarantee you safe passage across the waters."
"Maybe" said Ymmot, "Or maybe you think I'm a fool. There's nothing across the waters. Now excuse me, I have an excessive amount of blood to mop up and I'd rather get it done before it gets dark." Ymmot locked the door and waltzed off back to the dungeon's cells with a sorry looking mop.